


For Old Time's Sake

by cuddlyharkness



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Family Loss, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Memories, Not Happy, Past Character Death, Post-Trenzalore, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:23:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlyharkness/pseuds/cuddlyharkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trenzalore was a nightmare. It still is. So it plagues Jack to visit things and think about the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Old Time's Sake

The nightmares raged through his mind like hot water. His face was laced with cold sweat, and his heart thudded in his chest as the images flashed behind his eyes. His breathing was heavy, his body tossing and turning in the bed as he lay there, suffering within his own head. 

He remembered the day clearly. 

There had been nothing but bullets. Bullets, lasers, so many dreadful and harmful things that it made his stomach turn to relive the memory. Weapons fired, futuristic cannons crashed, and all the while there was nothing but screaming. He'd witnessed it with his own eyes. 

_Trenzalore. Trenzalore. Trenzalore._ The word made him sick. It made him feel as if just that, just a single word, had taken everything from him. He'd dropped to his knees in the muck and curled a body close to him, having taken shelter behind one of the gravestones that were so kindly laid out for one of his friends. He'd held the body close, sobbing as the dying voice tried its hardest to soothe his wailing. 

It didn't do any good. The face still haunted his dreams, bloody and bruised and yet... still smiling. Smiling at him, reminding him that this wasn't over. That he would never really have to be alone. And then it went silent, unable to renew or regenerate. 

And then he screamed. 

He screamed loud and hard, jolting up from the sweaty sheets of his bed. His eyes darted back and forth across the room as he gasped for air, a hand gripping the spot on his chest where his heart rattled against his rib-cage. His breathing, still labored, slowly eased to a calmer pace. 

He woke up like this every night. He'd taken to sleeping alone, where no one else could see his body so terribly wrought with fear. Nobody would understand, regardless. He knew that much.

As he finally calmed down, he slowly got up out of the bed and walked to the window. Pressing his forehead against the cold glass, he considered his nightmare. He thought about a lot of things, actually. More than he cared to admit. 

Silently, he dressed. He'd never changed his clothing choice, something that always stuck with him. He refused to after losing him. The same old button ups, the same old dress pants, the same old boots, and the same old braces...

His heart ached as he held his RAF coat. The fabric was heavy in his hands, worn and tired with use. He found himself sitting back on the edge of the bed, holding the coat to his chest as he was drawn into his thoughts once more. 

He remembered his partner. He loved to steal this coat. He loved wearing it, even if it was too big to fit his varying forms. He looked adorable, no matter how big it might've been. A smile came to the man's lips as he thought about how they would fight over who got to wear it for the day. No, not fight. They never really fought. They were too happy for that. Too much in love and too content with whatever decision they came to.

Sighing, he held the coat to his face. Taking a deep breath, he tried to catch the familiar smells that had once covered himself and this old raggedy coat. It wasn't easy. It had been so many years... Decades, centuries... He didn't even remember anymore. But he caught a small smell, a smell that brought tears to the corners of his eyes. 

_He caught his Doctor's smell._

His breathing hitched at the familiar scent. His heart skipping a beat as memories flooded back to him so quickly that he felt dizzy. How he would scold him, how he kissed, his smile... It hurt. It all hurt so very much, and soon he found himself holding back sobs. 

Standing abruptly, he threw on the coat and pulled his transport out of his dresser drawer. Strapping it to his wrist, he punched in coordinates and in a matter of moment, his atoms were reassembled where he wanted to be. 

A sad, rotting blue box stood in front of him. Its paint was chipped and peeling, the windows gray and lacking any of the light that once seemed to pour out of it. It made him feel sore, but he knew that TARDIS's never truly died... not for millions of years, actually. Silently, he pressed a hand to the doors. A frail, pitiful hum was his response and he had to close his eyes to avoid his tears. 

He wasn't the only one suffering. The old girl loved him as much as he did, and so it broke them both to not have him anymore. Slowly, she cracked open her doors and allowed him inside. He stepped in, and quietly closed the doors behind him.

Inside, everything was bathed in pale, gloomy light. The TARDIS was still alive, but barely. She'd been a fighter her whole life, but her grief was taking as much a toll on her as it was her current occupant. His feet carried him across familiar floors without him needing to think it, his eyes running over the interior as he ran his hands over the familiar objects. Nothing had changed. Nobody had been able to get inside, and the TARDIS refused to budge anything an inch. He couldn't blame her. He would have wanted it to be the same...

He flipped the odd dial and pressed an odd button on the old control panel, watching the familiar sparks flare and screens slowly flicker to life. His stomach felt like a rock in his stomach, his heart was dead weight inside his chest. Watching the screens flicker the different symbols that he knew to be Gallifreyan, he sat down and watched the room be illuminated in what was once a warm, comfortable glow. 

"I miss this... I miss you... I miss him..." Was all he could manage to say. A sad hum was his only response, both the TARDIS and himself being too lost in their own memories to be bothered with proper conversation. 

After a while, he stood and went to explore the rooms he knew well. First, the kitchen. It was exactly as they had left it that day. Things were still littered on the counter, dishes still on the table and in the sink. There was even still a half eaten cake sitting on the kitchen table, and two cups of tea, once warm, now sitting on the edge of the counter where they had been abandoned. 

He averted his gaze, proceeding down another corridor to the companions rooms. Each room had its own custom name, emblazoned in gold on whatever color door the companions had picked. His own was empty, he knew. So he moved on, down the halls until he found the place he was looking for.

The Doctor's bedroom wasn't extravagant. He'd known that, because he'd been the last person to pick the design choice. Things were simple, muted and cozy colors to help them sleep. The bed was still a mess of sheets and blankets, pillows askew on the bed just as they had been so many years ago, when this place was lively and full of warmth, not cold and deserted. 

Clothes were thrown about, the remnants from their last night of love and affection before everything went wrong. He watched as the ghosts of that time played out before him. Himself and The Doctor, giggling and happy as they fell to the bed. They laughed and joked, all the while stripping down and throwing haphazard kisses to whatever parts of the other they could reach. They were all smiles, bright happy faces. 

As he watched the ghosts vanish, more took their place. Himself, once again, sitting in the bed with The Doctor curled up beside him. They looked spent, but happy. He had nothing but happy memories of this place, but those same memories haunted him now. They plagued him. And the ghosts vanished just like before. 

He took a deep breath as he walked over to the bed, slowly sinking down to sit on what used to be his side of the bed. Reaching a hand out, he ran it over the soft sheets and the fluff of the lush blankets The Doctor insisted on having. He smiled sadly, remembering a time when all this seemed like it could never go away.

He remembered the struggle it took to earn The Doctor. The struggle he went through, eventually their first date, their wedding... He remembered it all, and it made his heart beat steady. As much as it hurt, he loved this man. Even if he was gone, he couldn't fathom loving someone else as much as he loved him. 

He sank back onto the bed, laying back and staring up at the ceiling. He watched the stars of a tapestry dance about above him, and he felt a cold chill run down his spine as one of the many ghosts of The Doctor curled up next to him. He felt the warmth of fingers in his hair, calm and methodical. He felt a kiss being pressed to his check, and a head resting on his chest as scrawny arms wrapped around him. Closing his eyes, he could almost fool himself into thinking he was really there.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he knew he woke up to the sound of the TARDIS travelling. Those familiar touches were gone, and he knew the TARDIS had done her best not to wake him. But the grinding of her engines was not peaceful, years of refusing help had caused it. Sadly, he got up and started back out to the control panel. 

"Is it time?" He murmured, walking over and gently placing a hand on the cold metal of the console. A quiet hum was his only response, and he nodded his agreement. On one of the screens, he witnessed the burning mass that was a very large, very powerful sun. Sighing, he let a peaceful smile rest on his face. "Alright... If you say its time, old girl, then its time..."

The TARDIS eased her way into his mind, her gentle humming almost therapeutic as she hurled them towards that sun. He had lived long enough, he knew. The TARDIS couldn't keep preserving herself, either. So, like their personalities demanded, they went out in a blaze of glory. At peace with the death of their loved one, but unable to continue without them. Sometimes, it seemed, that was just how life went.

It was nice, however. He'd gotten the chance to revisit the things that had once made him so happy. So, as the TARDIS flew into the burning fires that was the sun, Jack was happy. He smiled, and stated very quietly to they approaching fireball "Hey, Capt'n Jack Harkness.." if only for old time's sake.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for old time's sake, just as the title implies. Its very sad, its awful, and I'm sorry to anyone with a heart who suffers because of this. But I woke up today feeling awful, and the first thing I thought about was Jack being unable to live without the Doctor. 
> 
> Grief can, sometimes, kill. It can be so overwhelming that it takes over someones life. And since the TARDIS literally can't survive without the Doctor, I added her own grief as well. It wasn't a healthy ending. I know it wasn't. That was my idea, making the grief eventually lead to very unhealthy decisions. But for Jack, that seemed to be the logical thing. He wasn't really living anymore, and neither was the TARDIS. I know its still not a valid reason, but its my attempt at a Tragedy.


End file.
